His Partner
by SereneCalamity
Summary: Stiles couldn't really help but fall for his new partner. Cop AU. Stydia. OneShot.
_I'm pretty new to the_ Teen Wolf _world, but I'm kind of in love. Don't know who I ship the hardest. Haha. So I'll just write for them all :) This story was inspired by_ Chicago PD.

 _Disclaimer: I do not own the characters._

Stiles Stilinski was all about females in the police force.

He loved a girl who carried herself with confidence _and_ who carried a gun.

He had never had a female partner though. His previous partner had been Jordan Parrish, who had just transferred out to Chicago because he was finally going to move in with his fiancée. About time, since they had been dating for two years now, and had been engaged for almost eight months now. For a while, Stiles just worked with a couple of the other detectives in the Intelligence Unit of the San Francisco Police Department that he was a part of. It took a very special person to be partnered full time with him, and Stiles was the first to admit that, so he had no problem with being bounced around for a while. And then there was a transfer, and Erica Reyes had come up from where she had worked as the secretary downstairs and said that he had officially been assigned a new partner.

Lydia Martin.

Stiles had asked if she was sure, if they would be a good match, and Erica had shrugged, popping the gum that she always had in her mouth, and had replied that his sergeant, Bobby Finstock, had said he knew her from previously, and that he thought they would be a good match. Stiles had wondered if Finstock was being a douche, maybe playing a prank on the new kid, by pairing her up with the detective who literally babbled for so long, two murderers had actually confessed just to get him to shut up. But then he met her, and he was ready to kiss Finstock's feet.

Lydia was kickass.

She was five foot three of sass, red head hair and big hazel eyes.

He was lucky as hell to have her as a partner.

Stiles had a habit of always doubting people. He absolutely loved people; loved being around them, and making them laugh, and watching as they interacted with others, but that didn't mean he believed in them easily. Doubting their intentions, doubting whether he could trust them, doubting if they were good enough—it was something that his best friend, Scott McCall, had been trying to get him out of the habit since they were little. It hadn't helped that his dad was a cop, so had always carried the weight of the horrible world on his shoulders, and then once Stiles had gone to the academy, and quickly graduated from a uniformed officer to a detective, that doubt had settled in as a permanent fixture.

He never had those doubts when it came to Lydia.

Never.

There was just something about her...Some light about her, in her eyes and in her skin, that drew him in.

It took her a while to open up to him, she was a little short to begin with, abrupt, but Stiles wore her down after a while. He was good like that, tended to shove himself in peoples faces until they either punched him, or gave in to him and reluctantly became his friend. In his defence, though, people never regretted becoming his friend, once they got used to him. She always dressed so... _Fancy_ , with pressed shirts and pants, the couple of times that she actually came in wearing jeans like the rest of them, they were always a high end brand. Stiles was pretty sure that she was the kind of girl who wore pretty dresses when she was off duty, and he really, _really_ wanted to see that.

So after a few months, he invited her out for dinner with him and his best friend, Scott McCall, and a couple of their friends. Lydia had sounded a little uncertain at first, but Stiles had bugged her about it for three days straight, and she had finally relented, with this little smile curling the corners of her pretty mouth.

He had not regretted it, but then he never thought he would.

And she _did_ wear a pretty dress.

She had her hair tied up in these braids that went around her head, with a couple of strands falling loosely around her face, a simple blue and white dress that finished a few inches above her knees and a cropped jacket over the top.

She looked gorgeous, biting her lip as she sent him a cute little smirk.

Stiles might have stared just a little.

Scott loved Lydia, and he kept giving Stiles knowing glances as they ate their burgers and drank their beer. Stiles may or may not have been raving about Lydia from the first day he had been paired up with her when he and Scott texted, or talked on the phone, or skyped. The two boys had been practically inseparable since birth, and they still talked every day on the phone. His fiancée, Kira Yukimura, joked that if she wasn't so secure and didn't know them so well, she would be threatened by their relationship. So he knew all about how obsessed Stiles was with Lydia, and that meant that she was getting special attention tonight, for Scott to make sure she lived up to his friends declarations.

The strawberry blonde also got on well with Kira, and Malia Tate, and Liam Dunbar. They all thought she was funny and smart, and Stiles couldn't stop grinning. Despite the fact that she clearly had high class taste, she stuffed her face with the amazing pizza from _Stefans_ and drank cheap beer with the rest of them. Partway through the night she got up to go to the toilet, and his friends all promptly took the opportunity to tease him about her, and when she came back, she sat back down in the booth next to Stiles, shuffling closer than she had been before. Their legs pressed together under the table, and then, while she was holding an in depth conversation with Liam about _Vikings_ , she rested her hand on his.

Stiles tried to hide up the fact he choked on the french fry that he had just tossed into his mouth knee.

Lydia shot him this adorable half smile, her eyes dancing, and squeezed his thigh knowingly before focussing back on Liam. Everything about her just _glowed_ , and it took every drop of self-respect not to drool over her.

Scott had noticed it as well, because his best friend winked at him across the table.

Things seemed to relax between the two of them from that night on. She still got annoyed at him, but that was normal, that happened with everyone. She would roll her pretty green eyes and huff under her breath and hunch her shoulders, but more often that not, there would be a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. They learnt each others movements, and their habits, and it felt as though they had been working together for years, rather than just a few months. Even Isaac Lahey, who generally went around acting as though he hated the world even though Stiles knew he was a big softie on the inside, said that they worked well together.

It was almost six months into their partnership that things made an actual change.

There was a dangerous case that they had been working on the side for the past couple of weeks. Stiles had a CI, Tracey Stewart, who had been passing on information about a local pimp, Theo Raeken, who was starting to deal with a guy who was bringing in underage girls from overseas. He had been looking into it whenever he could, and Lydia had started helping him when she realized what he was doing. They hadn't had any solid leads until three girls were found in a shipping crate. That drew a lot of attention and got then assigned to the case.

Finstock let Stiles and Lydia take the lead since it was Stiles' CI, with Isaac, Derek Hale and Vernon Boyd bringing up the rest of their team.

The team was used to working long hours, it was sort of what they signed up for. Late nights and ridiculously early mornings on a regular basis with little to no holidays. The pay was shit for what they had to put up with, and they barely had any semblance of a personal life—Stiles was just lucky to have such good friends who understood what he did. But this case seemed to take more out of them, maybe because the girls were all so young, and Theo had been on their radar for so long that they all threw themselves into bringing him down. There were some nights where they didn't go home, crashing out on their desks, or on the floor beneath their desks.

Stiles thought it was kind of adorable that Lydia made snuffling noises in her sleep, and even though he was exhausted, he tried to wake up earlier than her just so he could watch her for a couple of uninterrupted minutes before they were thrown into the mess of the next days work.

Isaac rolled his eyes and called him a dork.

Boyd teased him about how long it was taking for him to make a move.

Derek ignored them like he was a babysitter at a six year olds birthday party.

It was almost a week later before they were able to pin the three murdered girls on Theo. It had lead to a shoot out, like so many of these things did.

Stiles had been in more of these things than he cared to count, but it was all part of the job. He had been working with Isaac for almost four years now, and Boyd and Derek for only a little bit less, and they knew each others movements, how to cover each other best. And even when there were people on the scene that he didn't work with very often, when there were patrol units backing them up or they were partnering up with another team, Stiles was good at adapting. He had to be, or else peoples lives were at risk.

But until guns started going off and the shouting started, Stiles had never frozen and thought so little about his own life when he saw Lydia jump as a bullet pinged off the metal door next to her.

The look that Lydia had given him as another shot sounded in his ear was what had brought him back to the present, and he had thrown himself behind one of the pillars in the abandoned building. Derek and Isaac were going to be coming into the room any second now, and that would distract Theo and his goons so that Stiles and Lydia would be able to get control of the situation. Boyd and Finstock would also be be bringing up the rear, they were going around the back of the building to make sure they were all clear there, and then Theo and his men would be out numbered.

This should be exactly the same as a hundred other times he had been in this situation. In fact, he had been in plenty _worse_ than this. There was a time when he and Isaac were pinned down and outnumbered by a triad, and he had managed to do what he did best—talk so much his bullshit actually convinced the triad that there were snipers surrounding them—and they got out of that situation just fine.

But this...This wasn't the same.

And Stiles felt it in his stomach that this was different, but he blinked and forced himself to clear his head, because there was no time to get distracted. People died if someone got distracted in this job.

At the end of the day, just as she had kept on proving over and over again, Lydia kicked ass. It was actually _Lydia_ who saved _Stiles_ , which might emasculate some men, but just made Stiles fall for her even more. He was going to be having wet dreams for months to follow about how he ended up in a hand to hand fight with Theo, and the pimp had managed to get one over on him, straddling Stiles and throwing vicious punches at his face and chest and how she had rescued him. Stiles was straining for his gun, which had been kicked just out of reach, when Lydia was suddenly standing behind Theo, clearly managing to shake the two men who had been attacking her, and had cracked the butt of her gun down on the back of his head. Theo had been knocked unconscious and tumbled to the side, and Stiles—panting ridiculously—blinked up at Lydia.

"I think you owe me, Stilinski," she let out a heavy breath as she reached out a hand to help him to his feet. Stiles just managed a nod before grabbing her hand and letting her pull him up. Isaac came running over to them, breathless, a few seconds later, looking over Stiles and making sure he was okay.

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles panted. "I'm fine," he shot Lydia a small smile. "Lydia saved me."

Finstock send them all home after the arrests had all happened, grunting that they could take care of their paper work the next day after some well deserved rest. It wasn't often that Finstock let them clock out early, so none of them argued as they scrambled for their things and then practically ran out of the office. Stiles just wanted to get home and have a shower and then crash into bed and possibly never get up again. He was also going to need to check in with Scott, because it had nearly been forty-eight hours since they had exchanged more than a text, and that was a little bit too long for Stiles' taste.

But first, he needed to clean up.

Stiles swallowed painfully as he rolled his shoulders, hearing a few clicks as his spine straightened, and he put his hand to his side. The paramedics had checked them all over when they had appeared on the scene, and apart from quite a bit of bruising, nothing was broken or sprained, and he was going to be okay. It didn't mean he wasn't going to hurt like hell for a week or so though.

He bee lined for the bathroom first, stripping off his shirt and tossing it into the laundry basket in the corner of the room. There were already purple and blue bruises beginning to form, and when he turned around to look at his back in the mirror, there were angry red scratches and scrapes littering his skin. He sighed and turned on the shower, knowing that even though it was going to sting for a little it, he would feel better afterward. His whole body was aching, and as he looked at his bloodshot eyes in the mirror, he realized that it had been over a week since he had actually slept for longer than four hours a night.

Just as he was about to undo his belt and get out of his pants, there was a knock on the door. Stiles frowned, automatically pulling open the drawer from his vanity unit and going for the gun that he kept there, because even Scott didn't show up without giving him some warning at two thirty in the morning. At least not anymore, now that they were proper adults and had jobs and responsibilities. He didn't bother with a shirt as he walked toward the front door, the gun at his side as he looked through the peephole, frowning when he didn't see anyone at eye level. He adjusted his stare and then saw a petite red head.

 _His_ petite red head.

Stiles couldn't help his small smile as he clicked the safety back onto his weapon and unlocked the door, opening it up and raising an eyebrow at her.

"Couldn't keep away, huh?" He teased her. Lydia just rolled her green eyes, but there was a worried look on her face as she scanned him up and down. She pushed past him and glanced around the apartment before turning back to him, crossing her arms over her chest. It didn't look as though she had gone home, her hair was still a mess around her face and there was an adorable smudge of dirt on her cheek, but she had changed her shirt, probably from the stack of spare clothes they made sure to keep in the office.

"I just needed to make sure you were okay," she said quietly, and Stiles noticed that the colour of her eyes looked a little duller than they usually did. Probably from their lack of sleep and just general weariness from the day, but he didn't like it.

"I'm fine," Stiles assured her as he shut the door and walked over to her, not too much distance between the two of them. "What about you? Are you okay?"

"I wasn't the one getting pummelled in the face," Lydia retorted. "How did he get the jump on you? You're usually quicker on your feet." Stiles bit his lower lip, his cheeks reddening slightly, as he remembered back to earlier that night. It was just as Derek and Isaac had burst into the room with them, shouting out for Theo and his men to lower their weapons. They had responded in the typical manner of men who acted without thinking about the consequences, and had just kept on firing. One of the shots had grazed Lydia's arm and she had let out a squeak and a string of swear words before ducking back out of the way, but it had been enough to distract Stiles.

And from the way that Lydia was looking at him now, she knew that was the reason.

"We can't be partners if you don't think I can cover your back, muchless cover my own," she told him, her voice a little snippy. Stiles frowned, realizing that she had mistook his reason for being worried.

"No, Lydia, that's not—"

"Then what is it?!" Lydia snapped at him. Stiles sighed, rubbing the hand that wasn't holding the gun at the back of his neck. He scratched at the base of his neck, a nervous habit he had had since he was a kid, and he put the gun down on the hallway table.

"It's not that I don't think you're capable," he began, chewing down on his bottom lip as he thought about how to phrase what he had to say. "It's just..."

"It's just what? Is it that I'm a girl?" Lydia's eyes were starting to get that light back now, that fire.

"No! No—oh my god, _hell no_! Shit, I would think you would know me better than that," Stiles actually felt a little offended.

"Then _what_?!"

"Fuck, Lydia!" Stiles burst out. "I was just fucking worried about you, okay?! I know you're perfectly capable of defending yourself, I know that you've got my back and I know that you're a better shot than I am! It's just I saw you get shot at, and I freaked out, okay? I just panicked," he let out a short breath through his teeth, dropping his gaze from hers to the ground, not too sure he would like what he would see if he saw her face.

He was smart.

Incredibly smart.

And so it wasn't as though he had missed the signals.

He knew that whatever he had for Lydia wasn't entirely one sided, but inter-office relationships had always been taboo and he didn't know where she fell on that. He also didn't know how _much_ she felt for him, and he didn't want to scare her off.

"So that was it?" Lydia asked after a few beats and Stiles frowned, his head jerking up.

"What do you mean 'that was it'?" He retorted.

"So it's just because you like me?" Lydia asked him in this 'duh' tone that made Stiles' frown deepen, but he wasn't really annoyed, more just confused. He might have also gotten a little redder in his cheeks.

"Yeah?"

"Then you're gonna have to get over that," Lydia said bluntly. "Because it doesn't matter how we feel about each other, we're still partners, and we can't let ourselves get distracted by it or else we're gonna drop the ball." Stiles was still staring at her, processing what she said, and the fact she kept repeating 'we'.

"Wait, uh..." Stiles cleared his throat and took another step closer to the red head. "We?"

"Yes, we," Lydia huffed a little under her breath and rolled her eyes again. "What—do you find it surprising that someone finds your nerdy hobbies and dorky tee-shirts and constant babbling cute?"

"You think I'm cute?" Stiles couldn't help but wiggle his eyebrows and Lydia didn't look impressed, but there was a tiny smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

" _Yes_ , I think you're cute," she muttered.

" _And_ my dorky tee-shirts?" Stiles questioned, a teasing lilt to his voice as he closed the distance completely between them and put his hand on her hip. He didn't miss the way her body relaxed, her torso melting towards his as though he was taking away all the tension. He liked that.

"And your dorky tee-shirts," Lydia confirmed, looking as though there was something else that she was going to say but then Stiles was covering her lips with his own. She tasted like gum and a little like sweat and completely perfect, and Stiles ignored the twinge in his ribs from the earlier beating when she splayed out her fingers on his lower stomach because the heat of her palms just felt so good. She let him guide them backwards until she was pressed up against hallway wall, one of her hands staying on his side while the other slid upwards, skimming over his shoulder and then wrapping around his neck. Stiles wanted to do so many things right now; he wanted to bury his face in her hair and he wanted to kiss her for a hundred years and he wanted to fall into bed with her. He touched his tongue to her lower lip, not wanting to rush her, but she opened up eagerly for him and he was able to fully taste her as he explored the warm cavern of her mouth."Stiles?" Lydia finally gasped out, pulling her lips away from his.

"Mm?" Stiles' expression looked a little glazed over.

"You really..." she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. "Really..." this time she fluttered a kiss over his cheek. "Need a shower." Stiles couldn't help but let out a snort as he pulled away from her.

"Well, that's one way to break a moment," he said with a lop-sided grin. Lydia lifted one perfectly plucked eyebrow at him, a cheeky glint in her eye.

"Is it still ruining the moment if I say I could shower with you?" The smile quickly disappeared off Stiles' face as he nodded his head rapidly too many times to count.

"No, no, absolutely not," he assured her, tripping over his words. "That would actually be—it would be _improving_ the moment. Exponentially improving the moment, one might say." Lydia couldn't help but duck her head and laugh at that. When she looked back up, he had this soft look on his face that made her unable to stop from reaching out and touching his face, trailing her fingers down his cheek and then over to rest on his lower lip. He pursed his lips, pressing a kiss to her fingers.

"What are we waiting for?" Lydia asked. She pushed on his chest a little, putting some space between them, and then lifting her hands to start undoing the buttons of her shirt. "We showering or what?"

Stiles almost fell on his face in his haste to follow after her.

 _Please leave a review, let me know what you think :) xx_


End file.
